


let's get lost

by girljustdied



Category: My So-Called Life
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-08
Updated: 2011-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-08 15:51:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17389274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girljustdied/pseuds/girljustdied
Summary: angela and jordan talk about like, dreams and stuff.





	let's get lost

**Author's Note:**

> post series.  
> prompt was "dream about flying."

She asks a lot of questions. Angela. It’s like before when they were seeing each other a lot. And not. They still spend a lot of time in the back of his car with the top down. When it’s sunny. When it’s raining sometimes they go to the loft. Or put the top up. She still does most of the talking or whatever. But it’s not the same, because now the questions are sort of like, intense. Like she’s looking for something. He’s not sure what exactly until she just comes out with it.

“I’d like to know how you feel.” And then he’s guessing he looks confused or something, because she keeps going in little spurts, “About me. In specific detail.”

“Look. I like you. A lot. Okay?” More than pretty much anyone he’s ever met. Even Tino, before he broke up the Embryos for good and started being a real dickwad all the time.

“But if you like, loved me,” and there she goes, making it more. It’s not that he minds. It’s probably true. It’s just that it’s not what he said. “Then why would you do all that stuff? You were really horrible to me. Really.”

He could tell her that it’s like, really obvious that she’s never been in love before. But he’s kind of through with being mean to her just because of how he’s feeling or whatever. It’s not her fault. You know, that he’s like, scared of stuff.

He leans his head back until he can look up at the clouds, feels Angela press closer to his side. So he sorta needs her. So what? It doesn’t have to be so bad. This is pretty nice. Apart from all the poking and prodding.

“Look, I told Brain what I was thinking,” he figures she’s still all stuck on the note. “And he made it sound, like, better, right? It’s still true.” All of it. Better than true, even. Like, poetic and stuff.

“I’d like to hear it from you, though.”

“You just,” he swallows. “Did?”

She starts paging through the textbook she’d been ignoring in her lap before. Too fast. Keeps her head on his shoulder, though. He used to think she was a really good reader, but now he knows that she’s just trying to act like she’s not paying attention.

“You wanna hear about a dream I had?”

She stops turning the pages, “Okay. Shoot.”

So he tells her about this dream where he was like, flying. But it was weird. Because it wasn’t like he was Superman or he was floating or whatever, it was more like he was a bird. Or something. He had to work really hard to get off the ground, get a good running start and stuff. He guesses that’s more like a plane. But then after that, definitely a bird. Wind slamming past him making it so he could feel the way it affected every part of his body.

“So I had to like, keep readjusting? Like, I could feel my body sinking and had to keep moving my arms and legs and hips and stuff in the smallest ways. If I didn’t, I’d fall. And if I did too much, I’d fall. Or I’d fly too high. Lose it. I figure that’s what it’s like for a bird. Because a plane’s too sturdy, right?”

She smiles. That certain way, where like, it feels like she’s getting more from what he says than he thinks he’s giving. It’s better than people thinking he’s dumb as rocks. Sometimes. “Where were you flying to? Or were you running away from something?”

“I don’t remember,” he closes his eyes and tries. But all he’s got is that wind, that fear. Couldn’t even enjoy it. Look down at the people looking like ants and say ‘Sayonara!’ Or whatever.

“What do you think it meant?” she touches his hair like she likes. Like he likes. So he just keeps his eyes shut and feels it.

Maybe he has some ideas, but he feels weird saying it out loud. “I don’t know.”

She huffs a little, a tiny puff of frustration that moves her hair away from her face. He doesn’t have to see it to know. “Maybe it’s about loss of control. Like, you fear it. Instinctively. Or something.”

Angela’s really smart and stuff, but sometimes he wonders if she knows him at all. “Nah. I was probably just thinking, you know, maybe it just sucks to be a bird.”

She kisses his hairline after a short pause, speaks into his temple. “Sometimes in class I spend like, ninety percent of the time staring out the window, wishing I could fly away. That my life would be better if I could, if only for a little while. I could go somewhere special, you know? Anywhere else but this stupid little town listening to Miss. Inglehorn try to explain proofs for the like zillionth time,” she laughs kind of breathlessly. “Because really it's all just a waste of time, right? In my humble opinion. It's just the prologue, you know? For something bigger.”

And it’s not like he spends a lot of time feeling sorry for himself or anything. And it’s not like he thinks she’s never gonna leave. Pack her bags and just take off. She will. Obviously. Sometime. College, or something. What’s that thing she talked about that one time? The Peace Corps?

But still, hearing her talk like that makes him feel something like that wind in his chest.

“I like it here.”

“I know, but—” she starts.

“With you.”

She twines her fingers with his. “I had a dream last night.”

He bets her dreams are a lot weirder than his. Or maybe just like, gentler. Either way, he’s curious. “Yeah? About what?”

She kisses him. Hard, and deep, her tongue pressing in to slide against his. Their legs twist and twine until she’s practically in his lap. Her voice is low, and sorta sexy, and full of promise, “Flying.”

He’s pretty sure—“That’s, uh. That’s a metaphor, right?”

She laughs, loud and bright. “Yeah, I think so.”

Feels like they could go anywhere.


End file.
